Pleasure is Mine
by To Sink Into Silence
Summary: L wakes up kidnapped to be tortured to death by someone who hates him very much. Is this his end or will he escape? What's going on in the task force HQ's basement?


**I wouldn't recommend reading this if you don't tolerate violence, especially towards L. The rating is only T because it's not too detailed and nine-year-olds watch Higurashi. No point in bothering unless you all complain.**

**I do not own Death Note or any of its characters.**

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Pleasure is Mine

A rough, heavy stroke against the small of L's back woke him. A liquid warmth rushed out and stuck his formerly white shirt to his wound. Involuntarily, he let out a gasp of pain. The attacker snickered behind him. It was low and daunting, oddly familiar. But he couldn't place the voice.

Looking around, the room was dark. Candles were scattered around, casting glow on brick walls and machinery; where was he? The shadows crept towards him and grabbed at his feelings.

L shuddered. This also pleased the attacker, a man, who's shadow engulfed his vision temporarily. The man was searching for what caused his reaction. The shadow then retracted back to the place behind him, out of sight.

A knife, long and slender used for cooking, pinned his left hand onto the table without warning. The surface was rough, made of wood. He realized nothing before was holding his limbs down, although cold metal was draped against his neck and spine. Chains. They pinched as he tried to turn, see who had wielded the knife.

An outline of the attacker, his back to the flames. No details could be seen, which he found himself oddly relieved about. Only objects on a tray beside the attacker and another knife in his hand could be seen with clarity, as the light reflected off of them. Among many sharp weapons, a syringe lay empty; how he woke there without knowing.

The effects of the tranquilizer still made L feel heavy. Feeling as if drowning. Drowning in his own blood as it soaked and stained into the table. His leg was numb but able to do as told, kicking blindly at the attacker. It landed low, but too high for what he was aiming for, although the man did stumble and fall, using the knife to anchor himself and jabbed it harshly into the table. Very close to his other foot. Too close. It scratched his heel.

Surprisingly, the man laughed as he steadied himself, holding his stomach. "Only you L." A pause, catching breath. "Only you could still hit someone while still feeling the effects of my _special treat_." Those last words held an edge, echoed cooly and with passion in L's ears.

The sound of pouring and then his back felt on fire. His hands gripped at the table, the left tearing further into the knife. He screamed. "You don't like salt?" asked the voice, and grabbed some of the red grains out of his back and shoved them into his mouth. "Not everything in life is sweet."

The attacker then remembered the blow to his stomach and removed the knife from the wood. "Punishment for not staying still" he cooed, embedding the sharp object deep into his leg. It was thicker than the first one, reached too far, though not enough to impale. Another involuntary noise. The man was satisfied and backed away to watch. The sound of wheels rolled on the floor. Was that his chair from the task force headquarters? He couldn't tell over his own screaming.

The feelings coming from his body were unbearable, but he knew the man was enjoying his agony and that there were more to come. He quieted down. His skin was caught in the chains.

From his position face-down on the table, he saw the attacker, who intentionally sat where he could see him, stood up. Footsteps out of his view. Towards the tray.

The second round began with him more alert, almost completely out of the drug.

However, there was no knives this time. A pair of pliers replaced them. L felt it as each one of his toenails were crushed slowly, enough interval to feel individual jolts. The hands remained untouched. The attacker, potential killer now, wasn't ready to reveal his face quite yet. But the voice....

He didn't want to think about it.

Couldn't think about it with all the pain.

It was ineluctable though, that he would admit to himself who it was.

Innocent as a wolf, the attacker stuck his hand into L's hair and pulled up. Then slammed down. A trickle, warm and all-so familiar, started down his face. "Stop thinking" the man growled. "You can't escape, not with that leg." He poked at the knife to remind him of its presence. "Pay attention to me."

The pliers returned to his foot. The smallest toe on his right became the target of experiment, the metal squeezing hard. He was trying to crush it.

The bone gave way and he went to the other foot and repeated the procedure.

It had not fulfilled the attacker's expectations. He set the pliers down. The rest of his feet were spared for the time being. An amazing revelation that such a pitiful thought made him so relieved.

The voice, cut through his ears. "Why so quiet? Don't you know who I am?" It was bored. The rush from torturing him had wore off.

"Y-yes" L choked. His throat was dry from the salt and he did not want to look the man in the face. The man who will kill him.

"Heh, of course you do, no surprise there. So I guess I won't have to tell you my motive then. Monologuing is such a _pain_." A violent slash near his shoulder blades. "A literal pain in your case."

However, he still felt that more should be said. "I tell you how you got here, since you'll be nice and quiet and listen. You were pulling an all-nighter, working hard and dutifully on the Kira case alone. One in the morning. You have amazing commitment, have I ever told you that?"

The attacker came into L's line of vision with a multiple-use pocket knife this time. He wheeled the chair in front of him and sat down, carving at his fingertips while narrating. "You had no idea I was there. You just kept on staring at that screen, completely oblivious that your time of suffering was approaching and it wasn't by heart attack. Oh no, I had no intention of killing you even before I injected you with tranquilizer. I just wanted to make sure that you had the worst experience of your life."

L felt his head grabbed again, this time from the side, and forced to look left and right. "Good thing this place has an elevator right? All I had to do was shove your unconscious body in a chair and wheel you down to the basement. See? I even set up all these candles just to set the mood."

"W-we're still in- in the task fo-orce headquarters?"

"Yes, yes we are. Very fitting I thought. The table I also had to move in, in case you're wondering. I went through a lot to get this ready just for you. You should be amazed that someone hates you this much. You_ deserve _it."

He dropped L's head and walked over to a tall, thin candle. The attacker came back with it, moving out of view. He was going to catch him on fire, wasn't he? "No" the man responded, reading L's thoughts, "I don't enjoy the smell of burning flesh, and there's still so much I want to do to you. Turn around."

"What?"

"Flip over. Lie on your back. Turn-fucking-around."

"I can't."

The man's voice was irritated, the rumble before actual thunder. "And why not?"

"There's a knif-fe in my hand, _genius_."

A swift blow to the back of his head was dealt. "Don't speak to me like that." The knife was ripped out with no consideration, dealing more damage and taking skin with it. L then flipped his body over onto his scorching back, the open gashes crying as splinters mixed in with the salt and blood. The chains rattled noisily and pinched before settling down to the attacker's tightening.

Still holding the candle, the man smiled and lifted up his shirt. Bare chest exposed, he tipped the candle. Hot, melted wax began to drip onto his body.

It burned with not only physically, but mentally as well. Watching the attacker perform the act was as excruciating as the act itself.

So this was why he had to turn around. The third round he has to watch.

The man became quickly unsatisfied as L's flesh started to give off the odor which he dreaded, walking back and replacing the candle to its stand.

Afterward, he went back to the tray. Picked up a saw. Held it centimeters above the flesh untouched by candle wax. Then it dug deep, deeper than the other wounds. He could feel it across his ribcage, a back and forth motion. It was repetitive, slow. L closed his eyes, lurched upward. The attacker was laughing, hard this time. It kept on and on without end.

He opened his eyes. The saw was no longer there. But he could still feel it. Still it was caressing his ribs.

The man stopped laughing and the saw came back into view, covered in blood. His chest was bleeding profusely, and he doubted what the man said earlier about not killing him.

"Now we're going to perform my favourite part. It would be disappointing if I started maiming you and you died before I could carve my name, so I'll use this" he held up the saw, "and do this best part before then." He picked a clear spot, wiped the blood off with his shirt, and carved the first letter, pronouncing it as he went along. "I thought English would work better when using a saw. You don't mind that, right?"

"Of course not" he answered himself. The marks were not as deep as the rest, most likely to scab fast. Details like this were too well-thought out.

He went to make the next letter, as large as a hand's length like the first one, but stopped. "Hmm, you know, this is taking up a lot of time. Why don't I just do my initials instead?"

L braced himself. Once the man was finished and stopped making them even, he looked over his work, which quickly spat out blood. "You'll probably be able to look at this tomorrow" he commented.

The attacker then spread L's left arm out. The table was not wide, leaving it partially hanging out. "I'm starting with this one since your hand is pretty much useless now anyway. What I'm going to do is start cutting off your fingers, then your hand, then move my way up your arm until it's just a stump. What do you think of that? Answer me, L." He was cheerful, sinister, and demanding.

"D-do wha-at-ever y-you w-wi-sh." He was starting to black out. He didn't care anymore. He hoped that he wasn't going to wake up. It didn't matter. There were people who would take over for him on the case.

L's eyes began to close with the figure looming over him. He heard the door open then. A gunshot that echoed through the room. A yell, then the_ clank _of the saw dropping and hitting the ground. His eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up, though the chains still restrained him.

A person stood in the doorway with a pistol cocked at the floor. Someone had come to save him. Someone he was not expecting.

"H-how?" He choked out.

"I came early to work since I couldn't sleep knowing you pulled an all-nighter" Light said, walking over to him. L turned to the best of his ability and saw that the young man didn't shoot to kill. Beyond Birthday held his leg on the floor. "You fucking, son of a bitch. Who is this guy and why was he torturing you? You two even look similar!"

"B-bey-ond B-bir-rthd-day" he managed. The world was still going black before his eyes, now unwillingly.

Light was furious. "Burn in Hell then, Beyond!" He pointed the gun at the man's head.

"L-light-t, n-no." It was the last thing he managed to say before losing consciousness.

---

A week later, L fought a pounding headache in the hospital. It felt like so long that he wasn't in a a morphine-induced stupor. The task force had visited, but he wasn't in the right mind to know who and when. Light came everyday with an almost guilty look, probably regretting either not staying at headquarters that night or not letting him die. The answer depended on the chance he was Kira.

Soichiro came once hearing L was normal again with reports of the case as requested. He owed the man for taking care of the medical paperwork and the nurses who questioned. He was registered under the name Ryuzaki Yagami.

"Hello Ryuzaki, Light" the older man greeted them as he came in and sat down. He sat the files on the detective's lap. He had yet been able to sit how he always had without opening a wound. "The killings have spiked over the last week, figures while you were gone. It was almost as if Kira knew and used it to his advantage."

"I see. Thank you Mr. Yagami." He started looking at the lists of names and causes of death of every Kira-potential victim in the past week while the father and son chatted. There were over a hundred-fifty names listed.

A particular name made him take a second look. A serial killer who attempted suicide and also tried to murder a fourth person after escaping from prison and leaving the Beyond Birthday died of a suspicious heart attack four hours after he was shot and had the police on him. He found himself fingering the scabs of the man's initials as he read. It was only three in the morning when he was caught, and wouldn't have made it onto the news until noon at least. considering he was more known in the Los Angeles than Japan.

An immediate conclusion in his mind. Light was very angry that morning. Tried to shoot the man. L said no, so he was killed a different way. Then one-hundred-fifty criminals die that very same week, more than usual.

"Good news" the young man interrupted his thoughts. "The doctor says you'll be able to check out in a few days if you promise not to strain yourself."

"Ah, I see."

Soichiro stood up. "Well, I have to go back and check on everyone before finding a place for wheelchairs. It'll be a while before you can walk again Ryuzaki. Good thing there's an elevator in headquarters." Both of the young men cringed. No one told him what had happened yet.

"Yes, thank you Mr. Yagami."

"I'll be there soon Dad."

The man left and they were alone. L stopped fingering the BB. The young man had his chair pulled up close. "And thank you too, Light."

"Thanks? I didn't do anything. In fact, this episode was partially my fault for not being ther-"

"Not that."

He was confused, "Then why?"

L looked at the sheets again. "I believe there's been a mistake with this list."

"Where?"

He pointed at Beyond's name. "This one."

The young man stiffened, looking at the time of death. "I see, you're right."

"Yes. This couldn't have possibly been done by Kira."

"What?" Light was stunned.

"You see it too Light. The times don't work." He was calm, watched as the man's facade broke slightly.

"Then?"

"Beyond had a weak heart. His heart went into shock after torturing then being shot suddenly. It was too much for the man to handle."

"O-oh. I see. Thanks, I would've never knew." His eyes were wide as he took the sheets from his hand and looked them over himself even though he's seen those names all week.

"It is no problem Light. The pleasure is mine" L told him.

**Yay, happy ending! I hope this story threw you a bit and taught you a valuable lesson: Use the buddy system. Also, I really like this title.  
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**Well, I would like to know how I did on my first one-shot, if it was too fast, too slow, predictable, etc. I'd like to improve for the next one and would greatly appreciate it.**

**Thank you! :D**


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